Night Whispers
By S. Faith, © 2010
Words: 884
Rating: K+ / PG
Summary: Sometimes it isn't what you say that matters, but what you do.
Disclaimer: Isn't mine.
Notes: First Valentine's Day together. Light and utterly fluffy. *heart*
If the night hadn't been so quiet, he might never had heard the sound at all. It didn't scare him so much as startle him; he wasn't convinced upon waking that the house was under assault or that the lovely woman sharing the bed beside him was in some way in pain or distress.
Indeed, the inarticulate sound she made had startled him, but subsequent sounds made him curious more than anything. He turned over to face her, propping himself up on an elbow, and in the dim of the room he could only just make out her features; even still, he would swear that she was pouting.
"Can't."
It wasn't crystal clear, but that was what it sounded like she said. After a few minutes, he rested his head on his folded arm, still watching her. After a few minutes more, he felt his eyes drift closed.
"Can't say."
His eyes opened again.
"Can't tell 'im."
He propped himself up again, staring at her in wonderment. Simultaneously a smile found his face. He had not ever heard her talk in her sleep before, and frankly, it was a little adorable. "Can't tell him?" he asked gently.
"Mm-hmm," she mumbled, still fast asleep. "Love him so much."
He blinked; his heart raced. Was this a somnambulant confession that she still had feelings for Daniel? "Can't tell who?"
"Mark," she said.
"Can't tell Mark what?"
"Durr."
"What can't you tell Mark?" he asked insistently.
"Shhh, he'll hear."
"Bridget, I promise I won't tell."
"Mmm," she said groggily. "Too soon."
Now he was confused. "Too soon for what?"
"God, you're thick," she said. Under normal circumstances, he might have chuckled at her tone. "Too soon to tell Mark I love him."
Once again he was stunned; the panic that had begun to mount melted away in an instant. "Why is it too soon?"
She snorted a sleepy sound of disbelief. "Six weeks. Too soon."
"I'm pretty sure Mark would like to hear that," he said, feeling suddenly a little on the emotional side.
"Dunno," she said. "Will think me silly."
"I can guarantee you," Mark said, "he will not think you silly. In fact, I bet Mark loves you too."
"Is too clever for me," she murmured. "Too nice for me. Is why I can't tell."
"Not too nice or clever for you at all," he replied. "You're just perfect for him."
She made a sleepy sort of snorting laugh.
"He does love you," he said. "He thinks you're the best thing that ever happened to him. And whenever he kisses you on the tip of your nose, that is his way of saying so."
"Hmm," she said. "I don't believe you."
"It's true. Mark says it's true, too. And he doesn't lie."
"True," she said. "True."
He gathered her up in his arms; she cuddled into him adorably. He leaned and placed a kiss right on the tip of her nose. She sighed. It was a happy sound.
As he drifted off to sleep he realised why this was playing so heavily on her mind, and he felt foolish for it having slipped his mind for a moment: Valentine's Day was the next day. A smile played on his lips. Indeed, he had not forgotten altogether.
………
He woke the next morning to find she was already out of bed. He grinned; on any other work day he had to pry her out of bed practically by force. She had been nonchalant and subtle, but he could tell she was looking forward to the day, particularly if her nocturnal ramblings were any indication. He could hear her moving around in the flat, heard her approaching. He feigned sleep again.
The scent of coffee and toast reached him before the edge of the bed sank down. He felt her finger trace over his brow, then down the bridge of his nose. He opened his eyes and raised them to her.
"Morning," she said, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Oh," he said sleepily. "Good morning."
"Brought you breakfast," she said.
"Oh, how lovely," Mark said, pushing himself upright. The toast was slathered with butter and strawberry jam, the latter in the form of a heart. He chuckled. "Thank you." He then crooked his finger to indicate she should move closer. As she did, he leaned and surprised her by kissing the tip of her nose.
She pulled back, blinking rapidly, but then saw a broad smile spreading quickly over her face. "You are very welcome, Mark."
Seeing her so pleased warmed his heart; he suddenly wanted to do everything in his power to make it the nicest Valentine's Day she'd ever had. He shifted and bade her sit in bed beside him. She furrowed her brow. "Your breakfast."
"In a moment." He patted the mattress again. "Something to do first."
She sat and he enfolded her in his arm, drawing her close then wrapping the other arm around her. He let out a long, slow breath, closed his eyes for a moment as he bent and kissed her hair, content with holding her in his arms. She slipped her arms around him to return the embrace before raising her face to look at him.
"Happy Valentine's," he said, then kissed the tip of her nose again.
The end.
